


Sex Machine

by PierintheSky



Series: Something New Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Verse: Something New
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PierintheSky/pseuds/PierintheSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean surprises his boyfriend with a present when he gets home from a hard day at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex Machine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuous 'verse, however, every single addition you will be able to read as a stand alone fic. I have decided that there is going to be a prequel to this story, but that won't be for a while seeing as there are two other stories I am focusing my attention on aside from this 'verse of stand alone chapters. Reading any of these individual stories will not affect your reading--if you so choose--of the story attached to this. There will be no spoilers, aside from the fact that you know Castiel and Dean will end up together.
> 
> All this 'verse contains is smut. No plot will be plotted on. Some of the stand alone smuty chapters may contain triggers or squicks; I will make sure to make it abundantly clear what each story entails. If there is some sort of sexual thing I haven't made these two do and you want me to write it, message me and I will tell you whether or not I'm already planning on it, or if I will take the suggestion and add it to my list.
> 
> I would like to say a specials thanks to [Lana](lanaallthefeels.tumblr.com) for soothing my insecurities about my ability to write smut one pervy sex scene at a time.

Dean Winchester firmly believed that very few things in life should ever cost more than five hundred dollars. A car? Sure, if you didn't get your baby from your old man. A house? Yeah, if you wanted to move out of the rundown apartment that you had been living in since college. But Dean never thought in his twenty-eight years that he would spend that kind of money on something for his sex life. I mean, his sex life was amazing, it was stupendous. It was the best sex life anyone could ever ask for, really. He had an amazing boyfriend who would do anything Dean asked of him. But it would seem said boyfriend didn't share Dean's feelings on the matter seeing as how a month ago Castiel had asked if they could try something different, something new.

Dean thought that something new was hard to come by. Their sex life was already pretty 'different'; they had tried tying each other up, butt plugs, dildos, vibrators that strapped to their tongues, nipple clamps, gags, and the list went on and on. Cas had even bought a little getup—silk panties, a corset and a pair of heels—that he would flaunt around in whenever he felt like Dean wasn't paying enough attention to him. So, 'different' was something that took Dean awhile to find, and there was a whole lot of research involved.

Right away he crossed off adding a third guy to the party for several reasons; one, he didn't really know many gay males, two, he doubted that Castiel would feel comfortable with someone else in the room with them, and third, Dean was way too possessive to let another person touch Castiel the way he did. So no threesomes. He thought about chastity cages long enough for him to look at them and have his dick shrivel up in protest. After a week of researching, he was about to give up and tell Cas to go get something himself until he just so happened to click on a link—and he found it.

After only a few seconds of watching the video of a guy getting impaled by a dildo hooked up to a machine, his dick twitched in interest. In his mind the stranger's face contorted into Castiel's; Cas' moans filtering in his ears and Dean knew that this is what he needed to get. After closing the link, he went into their bedroom, flipped Cas onto his stomach and pounded him into the mattress. Afterward, bending over Cas, Dean whispered into his ear that he found what they had been looking for.

Of course, Dean being Dean, he had been a little over zealous and forgot to check the price before he said he was going to buy it—although he hadn't already told Castiel specifically what he was planning on buying; he wanted that part to be a surprise. Realistically though, he never thought something for sex would cost over five hundred dollars. In the end, though, he had ended up pulling the cash out of his and Cas' savings account and buying it online. Now all he had to do was wait.

Dean paced the living room of their two-story house, bare feet slapping against the oak floor as he rubbed his hands together, stopping only when the friction caused too much heat. Occasionally he would wander over to the window and peek out to see if the delivery man had come yet. A knot of nerves was bundled in the center of his stomach, although he really couldn't pinpoint why—it's not like he was a fucking blushing bride. Dean was leaning more towards the fact that he wasn't sure if this had been what Cas was talking about when he had said that he wanted them to try something new. But as he kept repeating to himself, it was too late to turn back now.

The knot loosened a bit in his stomach as a delivery truck pulled up in front of the house; a man in a brown uniform jumping out and going to the back. Dean shot away from the window, almost falling over the glass table in the process—Castiel would kill him if he broke another one—and ran to the door. The delivery man knocked and Dean froze. Should he wait a minute before opening the door so it didn't seem like he had been waiting around all day for this one package (even though he had)? He rolled his eyes and then opened the door, the delivery man looking him up and down. Probably not what he was expecting, Dean thought.

“I've got a package for a Dean Winchester.” The man looked down at the rectangular box and then looked back up at Dean.

“Yep, that's me,” Dean smiled as the man handed him a pen and clipboard, telling him where to sign. “Thanks, I've been waiting for this for awhile.” He handed the paper back to the man, pulling the package away from him. “I got it for my boyfriend.” Dean winked, fighting a smile as the man stumbled down the steps. “Have a nice day,” he called, pulling the package the rest of the way inside before slamming the door shut.

Dean only had two hours to set everything up before Cas would be home, and seeing as how the thing didn't come assembled, it would take a while. He ran towards the basement, almost falling down the stairs a couple times when his bare feet slipped on the wood. Dean looked around the room as he pulled the cord for the light. It looked like a regular basement (cement floor, cement walls) and it certainly smelled like a regular basement (grass, dirt and dust) but in all actuality it wasn't just a regular basement.

Well, it used to be, but after Castiel had put in the request for something new, Dean had taken it upon himself to change it around. There was now a large white shag rug placed in the middle of the room, with an equally white futon on a solid black frame. He had also put a couple tables around the rug with mismatched scented candles on the top—mood meant something, right?

This surprise had been a bitch hiding from Cas, seeing as the back part of the basement doubled as the laundry room. Dean was known to help around the house at times but he had always steered clear of the laundry—so to say that Cas was a little suspicious when his boyfriend of seven years suddenly wanted to take that chore upon himself would be an understatement. After the last month Dean took a silent oath to never do laundry again.

Dean finished setting up the machine with a half-hour to spare before Cas would be home, so he took the time to stand at the bottom of the stairs, eyes slowly raking over the layout and making sure everything was in place. Once satisfied, he ran back up the stairs—only slipping once—and to the upstairs bathroom.

∙=∙=∙=∙=∙=∙

Castiel hated his job just as much as he had hated his major in college, so when he got home—throwing his suitcase down on the table next to the door and shucking his trenchcoat and suit jacket off—and the first thing he smelt was hamburgers, he immediately remembered why his life didn't suck. Dean Winchester: boyfriend extraordinaire—even if he had been acting weird lately. Sure, Cas knew why, but when he had brought up the subject of expanding their sex life, he hadn't expected for Dean to take it so seriously.

He breathed in through his nose, inhaling the scent of charred beef. Dean always made the best burgers.

“Honey, I'm home,” Cas called in singsong voice. It was something that they had started doing when he had first moved in with Dean back in their junior year of college—whoever got home first was supposed to say it. At first, Dean was the only one who said it, but then one night while lying on their beat up old suede couch, watching reruns of Law & Order—a show that he still tells his younger brother he doesn't watch—Dean looked down at him and asked him why he never said it when he came home from class. Cas had shrugged; it wasn't something he ever thought about, but the next day when he came home he said it, and the look on Dean's face was enough for him to do it every day since. If ever neither of them said it when they got home, they knew shit had hit the fan at work.

Cas raised his eyebrows, eying around. Odd.

“Dean,” he called again, walking towards the kitchen.

Dean stood with his back pressed firmly against the hall wall as Castiel walked into the kitchen. He watched as Cas looked around, clearly confused when Dean wasn't in there. Cas shrugged, walking over to the sink and turning the faucet on to get a drink. Dean smirked, slowly peeling away from the wall; his bare feet silent against the linoleum as he snuck up behind his boyfriend.

“Jesus Christ!” Cas yelled, jumping as Dean's arms snaked around his waist.

Dean breathed in; nose snuggled up to the base of Cas' neck. “Close enough.”

“Your hair is wet.” Cas observed, leaning back, letting his head fall to the side as he shut his eyes.

“I just got out of the shower,” Dean explained, punctuating light kisses with each word.

“And you've cooked dinner. Someone's been busy.” His head moved with Dean's shoulders as he shrugged.

“I figured we wouldn't feel like doing much after we got done.” Dean licked up the side of Cas' neck, mouth sucking in his earlobe and letting his teeth graze over it gently.

Castiel's eyes fluttered open as he swallowed against the newly formed lump in his throat. “And what exactly are we doing?”

“There's a present for you in the basement,” Dean whispered, voice hoarse.

“In the basement?” He turned his head towards Dean. Dean nodded, a mischievous glint sparkling in his forest green eyes. Of course it's in the basement, Cas thought.

Dean's hand moved from around his waist, slowly snaking up Cas' front to pull at his necktie. “But first we gotta make sure you can't see.”

“Are you sure that you're the right guy to lead a blind man down a flight of stairs?” Cas asked, as Dean covered his eyes.

“Don't get snarky,” Dean growled, crossing the two ends of the tie and forcefully making Cas' head bob. “And who said anything about me leading you anywhere?”

“Dean, I swear on all that is holy you better not—“ Castiel got cut off by Dean bending down and picking him up, lifting him over his shoulders to carry him fireman style. “If you drop me, Dean Winchester!” Dean just laughed, moving out of the kitchen and towards the basement. “Don't hit my head,” Cas warned between clenched teeth.

“Jeez, Cas, I want to get you downstairs, not kill you. And it's not like I'm not used to carrying heavy stuff.” It was true. During the warmer months, when you could actually get construction jobs, Dean worked for a family friend at Singer's Construction; during the colder months he worked down at the station as a volunteer firefighter. Still, Dean took care entering through the doorway, making sure not to knock Cas' head on the wooden arch.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Dean smiled triumphantly, smacking Cas' ass hard enough to earn a startled yelp. Dean lifted one arm, pulling the cord for the light before moving towards the futon. “Going down.” He knelt on the edge of the bed, laying Cas down on top of the pristine sheets.

“Okay, you can take my tie off now,” Castiel said. Dean grabbed Castiel's hand as he tried to untie the makeshift blindfold.

“Not yet,” Dean breathed, pushing Cas flat on his back.

“Dean—“

“Just trust me.” He straddled Castiel's hips, staring down at his face. He was so fucking gorgeous: ample pink lips that were in a permanent state of being chapped unless Dean had coated them with just the right amount of saliva; hair dark enough that it was almost black, always looking like he had just had sex, made even worse when they actually had; a light coat of scruff covering the lower half of his face, outlining those amazing lips, on which Dean often times found he likes to rub his face against while they are lying in bed—though he'd never actually admit to something so chick flick-y. Gorgeous was an understatement.

“Dean.” 

He broke out of his reverie, leaning down and kissing Cas lightly before sitting back up, letting his fingers work at the buttons of Cas’ dress shirt.

“Do you have any idea how hot you are?” Dean asked, fingers brushing against Cas’ undershirt (how many times had he told Cas he didn't need it? Yet he still wore it). “You wear too many fucking layers, baby.” Dean had never been one for pet names; they were stupid and made his stomach churn. But whenever they had sex the endearment seemed to tumble out of his mouth. The first time it had happened, Cas had stopped everything, giving Dean this stupid, dopey look, to which Dean had abruptly told him to 'shut your fucking mouth and suck my cock'.

Cas sat up, helping Dean shrug him out of the unbuttoned shirt and pull the white t-shirt up and off. Dean's hands ran down Castiel's chest, thumb flicking over his nipples before pushing him back down. His mouth found Cas', tongue tracing over his lips, making him gasp, allowing him the chance to slip in. His taste was one that Dean could never find the words to describe, but it was one that not even the best apple pie could beat.

Cas moaned as Dean nipped at his tongue, rutting his hips against Dean's—their half hard cocks rubbing against each other through their pants. “Dean.” Cas moved his mouth off of Dean's, sucking in a deep breath of air, though it didn't deter Dean from what was at hand.

Dean slowly moved down Cas' neck, teeth grazing, tongue flicking out over the salty skin underneath; relishing the way Castiel started to unravel beneath him. This was one of Dean's favorite parts—making Cas want it so bad that he would do anything for it. Dean liked desperation. He nipped at the protruding collarbone as he hovered over it, not stopping on his path downwards. Tongue darting out, lips brushing, soft panting thrumming in Dean's ears.

“Dean,” Cas moaned, fingers grasping at Dean's too short hair. Dean grinned against his belly button, licking at his navel.

“Cas, baby, trust me,” he whispered, tongue trailing against Cas' happy trail before it disappeared underneath his pants.

“It's not that I don't trust you, I just want you to fuck me,” Cas growled.

“Something new, remember?” Dean chuckled as his fingertips brushed against the button of Castiel's black slacks.

“Teasing isn't exactly something new, Dean,” Cas choked out as Dean squeezed his cock through the thin material.

“What did I say . . . don't get snarky,” Dean whispered, face turned up towards Cas as he unbuttoned the slacks with practiced fingers.

Castiel let out a loud moan as Dean's mouth covered the girth of his cock, breathing hotly onto it. Dean sheathed his teeth behind his lips before gently biting down on the member in his mouth, letting his tongue fall on it, humming. He grinned, pulling off as Cas moaned, nose nuzzling into his crotch. Squeezing the member in front of his face, he climbed to his knees, unzipping Cas' pants. Green eyes found the blue necktie as he slowly slid the pants down his legs, hard dick slapping free against Cas' belly, leaving a smear of precome.

Castiel bit his bottom lip, breathing in deeply as the warm air circled around him. He whined as he felt Dean leave the bed, the only weight on the mattress now his own. Dean picked up the lighter he had earlier placed on one of the tables, going around and setting the candles aflame, a light scent already wafting through the air from the wax.

After he was done he went to stand at the end of the mattress beside the machine, staring down at Castiel; lips swollen, chest heaving, hard cock leaking and twitching on his stomach. He rubbed a hand over his mouth, gulping, before taking his shirt off, throwing it down on top of Cas' discarded clothes.

“Turn over.” His voice was deeper than normal, completely wreaked and they hadn't even done anything yet. Cas did as he was told, sitting up before turning over on all fours, giving Dean a perfect view of his bare ass.

“How do you want me?” Cas asked, the words going straight to Dean's dick.

“That—” his voice broke. He cleared his throat before trying again, “That's fine.” Cas made a surprised sound as Dean knelt down on the bed and grabbed him by his hips, pulling him back hard against his own. “That's fucking perfect, baby.” Dean grabbed around Cas' waist, a hand circling around his dick, pumping once, twice, while his other hand gently tugged on his sack. “This is going to be amazing.”

He removed his hands from around Castiel’s waist, slapping his ass, earning him a lewd moan in return. Both hands grabbed Cas’ globes, massaging them underneath his palms as he bent over, nipping and licking at them before trailing to the hole with his tongue. Cas gasped, canting his hips as Dean licked a long strip from one end to the other.

Dean lifted his head, spitting down on the pucker before delving back down; tongue lapping at the ring of muscle. Cas cried out in return, pushing his ass into Dean's face. Dean hummed, teasing the hole before pushing his way inside, wriggling his tongue. This was another of his most favorite parts—fucking Cas open with his tongue, before adding his fingers, one at time, sometimes making Castiel come just from that. But not today. Today was different.

Cas protested as Dean's tongue retreated back inside his mouth, the taste of pure Cas dancing on his tongue. Dean hushed him as he sunk his pointer finger inside of the heat, moaning as the tightness swallowed him.

“I'm going to get you nice and ready, baby,” His voice barely loud enough to be heard over Castiel's constant moaning, “And then I'm going to make you scream.” As if on cue a sharp yell filled the room as Dean's finger brushed over his prostate. “You're going to love your surprise, baby. Trust me. You're going to fucking love it.”

“Dean . . .” 

He added a second finger, scissoring him open as he bent his head back down, tongue darting in between his fingers.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” The vibrations of Dean's voice went straight to Castiel's dick as his boyfriend talked, not taking his lips off of his hole. Cas whimpered, Dean's face moving away from him and replacing it with a third digit.

Dean straightened his back, placing his free hand on Cas' hip. His fingers curled, brushing against his prostate again and making Cas' body go rigid. “Fuck, Dean.”

“Hmm,” Dean moaned as he quickened the pace of his fingers before chuckling, “not yet. First I'm going to make you beg for it; you know how I like it when you beg.” He removed his hand from Cas' hip, slapping down hard on his ass again. “And then, just when you think you're going to come . . .” Cas pushed against his fingers as he brushed the sweet spot inside of him, “I'm going to stop.” Dean placed his hand on Cas' shoulders, pulling him harder onto his hand.

“Dean,” Cas stuttered out.

Dean used to think that committing yourself to one person was stupid. That promising to sleep with only them was boring. But he was wrong. Knowing Castiel for as long as he had and to the extent he did, he'd learned every sweet spot on the man's body. What made him unravel. Dean's voice during sex was one of them. Cas had once said that he didn't care what Dean was saying, just as long as he kept talking.

Dean continued the push-pull motion on Castiel's body. “C'mon, Cas, beg for it.” He could tell Cas had clamped down his eyelids, nose scrunching up. Cas may have been easy, but he was stubborn. “Just think of it this way: if you don't beg and you come all over the place, you won't get to try out our new toy.” Dean grabbed a hold of his boyfriend’s hair, pulling his head back as he leaned over him, making Cas yelp. “So beg.”

“Dean,” Cas whispered, pulling his head forward, trying to get free from Dean's grip.

“You can do better than that,” Dean chided, yanking back.

“Fuck, Dean, please.”

“Please what, baby?”

“Jesus Christ, Dean,” Cas yelled, aggravated, “Fuck me!” Dean stopped, fingers still inside of Cas. One at a time he slowly brushed his fingertips over his prostate, Cas letting out a loud, breathy moan with each one. “Dean . . .” he repeated his name, leaning back into the fist in his hair. Dean repeated the movements, watching as Cas' mouth fell open, a low moan emitting from deep within his throat.

“Are you gonna come, baby? You gonna come on my hand?” Cas let out a low whine in reply, thrusting his hips back.

“Dean.” 

Dean smiled, letting go of Cas' hair and slipping his fingers out of Cas. 

“You are such a fucking fucker!”

“You have such a mouth on you.” Dean slapped his ass playfully. “Are you ready?” He could feel the glare Cas was giving him through the tie. “Okay, okay,” he held his hands up. “You're ready.”

Dean got off the futon mattress, his dick throbbing inside his jeans. He walked over to the table again, picking up the lube. Unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, he walked over to the machine and lathered the dildo. Afterward, he tossed the container on the floor before taking his lubed hand and stroking his cock, once, twice, three times. Dean knelt down on the bed, grabbing a hold of the fake dick.

Cas sucked in a deep breath, preparing himself for the burning stretch that he's become so familiar with. He licked his lips, leaning into Dean's hand on his bare ass as he shifted behind him. Cas let out a sigh of relief as the tip of his cock touched his ass. No, it wasn't. It felt different—wrong, fake. “Dean?” Cas whined.

Dean leaned over, whispering in Castiel's ear, “Trust me.”

Dean moved back up, hand grabbing a hold of the dildo attached to the machine again and lining it up with Cas' hole.

“Move back for me, baby.” Cas moaned as he swallowed the entire dildo. “So hot, baby.” Dean rubbed the globes of his ass, squeezing gently. “Fuck yourself, Cas. Get nice and loose.” He stood up, getting off the mattress and walking around to look down at Castiel's face.

“Dean.”

“Shh, I'm right here.” He cupped his face, kissing him lightly. “Now . . .” Dean pulled away, hand weaving through Cas' hair. “Fuck yourself.”

Castiel slowly leaned forward, dragging the dildo out of him inch by inch until the tip was pressing at his hole again. He bit his lip before ramming himself back down, yelping at the tearing sensation. Dean would have yelled at him, telling him that he said 'fuck yourself' not 'rip yourself open', but he knew that's how Cas liked it. Hard, fast and dirty. The only time they went slow was after they got done fighting and they were taking the time to remap each others bodies; show each other how much they really loved one another and that everything that they might have said while arguing meant nothing. One of the downsides of knowing someone as well as they did was that they knew exactly which spots hurt the most.

“Dean,” Cas moaned, rising off of the dildo, mouth slackened.

Dean's hands found their way to his hard cock, leaking against his stomach, and slowly began to match the pace Castiel had set for himself. Watching Cas masturbate in any form had always been something he liked to watch, ever since he found him in the guest room of his parents house one Christmas break with his fingers up his ass, writhing on the bed and moaning Dean's name.

“Just like that, baby,” Dean whispered.

“Dean,” Cas moaned again, quickening his pace.

“You ready?” Cas nodded, nibbling his bottom lip. Dean walked over to the machine, picking up the wired remote that he had placed on top of it, before gently placing a hand on Cas' waist. “Hold still for a minute, Cas.”

Dean turned the dial on, a light humming filling the air, accompanying Cas' soft moans as the dildo started to move. Dean's mouth went dry as he watched the skin around the rubber cock move as it pulled in and out of his ass slowly. “I'm going to turn it up,” Dean warned, his grip tightening on Cas' hip, before turning the dial again.

He let go of Cas, backing up a few steps to get a better view of his boyfriend being fucked. Dean stroked his own cock a few times, pearls of precome slipping down the column and into the crease where skin met skin. He let out a soft moan, closing his eyes for a split second before forcing them back open, peeling his hands away from his body. He walked around the futon, facing Cas as he let out another moan, tilting his head back.

Dean took a few steps toward him, only a few inches in between them. “Do you want me to take this off of you now?” he asked, tugging on the tie.

“Yes.” 

Dean nodded as his fingers went to the knot on the back of Cas' head, tugging at the ends.

It only took five seconds in between the tie falling off of Castiel's eyes to Castiel's mouth finding Dean's balls. Dean let out a startled 'fuck' that was more a moan then a scolding, fingers weaving into Cas' hair, gently tugging at it. Cas was messy but more than proficient; mouth taking in a ball at a time, tugging on them, lapping at them. When he got done giving each one equal attention, he ran the point of his nose between the two, followed by his tongue. He licked and sucked on the skin at the base of Dean's cock before licking up the length, taking the tip into his mouth.

Dean moaned loudly, tugging harshly at Cas' hair as Cas looked up at him, blue eyes underneath long dark eyelashes. He hadn't seen those fucking eyes all day. Dean moaned in between a litany of curses as Cas took most of his cock in his mouth, teeth scraping gently over the skin. His hips jutted up into the cavern of Cas' mouth on their own accord, seeking release. But he didn't want it, not yet. Dean pulled on Castiel's hair, turning up the dial to half way. Cas gasped, letting Dean move his dick away from his mouth, eyes wide as he looked up at him.

“Do you like that, baby?” Dean asked, stroking his cock—made easier by Cas' spit—in a loose fist as he looked down into his blue eyes. Cas moaned, thrusting back onto the machine as he closed his eyes tightly. Dean swiped a bead of precome from the tip of his dick, painting Cas' lips with it before he let him slide his finger inside his mouth. Dean bit down on his lip as Cas sucked on his finger, moaning around it. “That's it baby,” Dean mumbled, bringing the hand holding the remote to the side of Cas’ face, petting him with his fingertips.

Dean pulled his hand free, fingers skimming across full lips as he stepped back—he paid for the ticket, he wanted to watch the show. Filthy moans poured constantly from between wet, shiny lips as Castiel shut his eyes and let his head fall forward. His hands fisted in the white, immaculate sheets as his arms began to shake underneath him. Dean's tongue played along his lips as his finger twirled around the dial; Cas wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

He stalked back over to the machine, turning the dial up all the way. Cas let out a scream, arms giving out underneath him. Dean knelt back on the bed, putting his legs on either side of Castiel. His hands roamed over and up his sides, rippling from the thrusts of the machine.

“Do you like this, baby? Being fucked by a machine?” Dean asked, standing above him. “Answer me,” he growled, bending over to pull his head up by his hair.

“Dean!” he cried out, thrusting backwards.

“I said answered me, fucker,” he snapped, pulling at the hair in his hands.

“Hmm,” Cas panted, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. Dean pulled at his hair again, demanding an answer. “D-Dean,” he stuttered, “Oh, God, yes, fuck, Dean.”

“Good boy.” Dean let go his hair, Cas’ head falling back down. “I'm going to come on you. You'd like that, wouldn't you? You want me to come all over your back, baby?”

Cas moaned, letting out a soft 'yes' before Dean stood up, staring down at him as he started to stroke his cock. Cas continued screaming below him as he worked his hand, faster and harder, his other hand dropping the remote before tugging on his sack.

“Cas,” Dean moaned, shutting his eyes, letting the sounds Castiel was making wash over him. “You sound so fucking hot, baby. So fucking hot.”

Cas started repeating his name, his tone getting lower and lower with each syllable as his body started to quiver. “Dean, fuck, yes, Dean,” he moaned, his hips forgetting the pace the machine had set. “Come on me, Dean,” Cas choked out between sobs.

Dean groaned, hand twisting around the head of his dick before going back down; pace quickening. “Yeah, baby. I'm gonna come all over your back. It's going to run into your hair, make it nice and stiff when it dries. You're going to be too fucking fucked out to move. It's going to dry like glue on you, leave a mark that you're mine, Cas. You are mine.”

“Yes.”

Dean clenched his jaw, moving the hand that was playing with his balls towards his anus, teasing the rim. He stuttered out a shaky breath before inserting his pointer finger to the first knuckle. “Cas,” he breathed, stumbling forward and almost falling on top of Cas.

He removed his finger, pressing his hand on top of Castiel's back, in between his shoulder blades for support. Cas moaned as he ground his face into the mattress, trying to swallow his screams, Dean above him letting out his own soft moans of pleasure. “Dean,” he mumbled. “Dean.”

Dean got the message—he'd long ago memorized the sound of Castiel before he came. “Let go, baby. Come for me.”

Cas let out one last muffled scream before coming on the white sheets in spurts of white. Dean pushed off Castiel's back, tilting his hips forward as he gripped his cock tighter. “Baby.”

“Dean,” Cas urged, post coital, barely audible over the machine still fucking his ass as hard and as fast as it could. “Come on me, Dean.” He turned his head, peering out of the corner of his eyes up at Dean. “And then I want you to lick it off my back and kiss me so I can eat your come.”

Dean gasped, pointing his cock downwards as ribbons of come started to shoot out of it, landing where his hand was just moments ago. He milked himself until he ran dry; ribbons turning into dots turning into dribbles. Afterward, he bent down, retrieving the remote and shutting off the machine. Dean got off the bed, slowly pulling the dildo out of Cas before gently pushing him down to a laying position. He walked back over to the bed, collapsing next to Cas, who was still panting in his afterglow, staring at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Something new.” Dean grinned; Cas let out a half-assed laugh in reply. “But there's still something we need to do. I believe there was something you wanted me to do.” He smirked, turning over on his side and leaning on his elbow.

Dean licked Cas' bare back, lapping up the smaller puddles closest to his ass, moaning for affect even though he hated the taste of his own come—then again he doubted anybody liked the taste of themselves. He slowly worked his way to the longer strands, ending at the one closest to his neck. After collecting all of the come from his back, Dean rolled Cas over, winking at him before smashing their lips together. He could feel the thick liquid slide into Cas' mouth, feel it mesh against their lips and spill out the sides onto their chins. Cas moaned loudly into the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around Dean's neck.

After a minute, Cas pushed Dean away, licking Dean's lips and chin for the residue of come. "You are such a little come slut." 

“Only if it's yours.” Dean grinned done at him—he'd deny any dopiness, it was just a small smile. “Okay, what is that smell?”

“Uh, sex . . .”

“No. It smells . . . rancid.” Cas turned his head, exposing the column of his neck, of which Dean took full advantage. “What kind of candles are those?”

“The kind that burn,” Dean answered in between kisses.

“Are they all the same kind?” Dean shrugged, sucking on his adam's apple. “Dean, how many times do I have to tell you not to mix candles?” He shrugged again, bringing a hand up to cover Cas' mouth.


End file.
